


When You Touch Me Like This

by blainedarling



Series: Seblaine Week 2014 [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Tumblr: seblaineweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:31:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blainedarling/pseuds/blainedarling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are certain occupational hazards associated with the work Blaine and Sebastian do. (Inspired by John and Judy from Love Actually. Day One: Alternative Meeting)</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Touch Me Like This

Blaine did not consider his job to be anywhere within the realms of porn, despite the series of lewd gestures and noises his friends were inclined to make whenever it was brought up. He’d never stuck anything anywhere that wasn’t of his own choosing, and the most revealing thing he’d had on show to the camera was his ass.

Apart from that one time something had gone wrong in the editing lab and a brief, nought point two second shot of his cock had made it into the final movie. Fortunately, the movie itself had been so bad that the critics had been too busy tearing apart the plot to notice the body double’s cock flapping about.

The important thing was that it was a job, in an industry that was notoriously tough to break into. The second most important thing was that his family would never have to know; with the exception of his brother, Cooper, who had gotten him the job in the first place. All he’d told Blaine, to be precise, was that it was body double work, and that he’d take it himself except that they needed someone small enough to pass for their main star in the, quote-unquote, places it mattered. 

That was how he’d ended up, a fresh-faced kid to the fast-paced world of Los Angeles, laying on his stomach on a bed for five hours, sporadically being brought snacks and water, while shot after shot after shot was taken of his ass, backs of his thighs, and even a good half an hour spent on his feet. The result was ten seconds of footage in the final movie. That was Hollywood for you.

Blaine didn’t regret it, not any of it. It was all tasteful, and he still drew a line at taking any of the roles offered to him that his agent didn’t approve as trustworthy production companies. He could afford to pay his rent each month and put food on the table, he’d already paid off a nice little chunk of his student loans in the past six months alone, and he was meeting the kinds of people who had the power to potentially one day actually put his face on the big screen. 

He considered himself luckier than most, especially in this town. It had taken some getting used to, some adjustment - but Los Angeles in itself was like that. He’d probably taken as long to understand the best routes around the traffic in the city as he had to be coached in the best ways to not pop a boner in the middle of shooting.

The latter hadn’t been much of a problem for him thus far, although he’d appreciated his agent’s ability to keep an entirely straight face as she laid out a list of techniques that other clients, who had started off as he had and since gone on to bigger things, had found effective. They seemed logical enough and he bore them in mind every time he went into work, just in case, but typically his scene partner wasn’t carrying the kind of  _equipment_  to be getting him anywhere close to riled up. 

Recently, it had been getting a little more challenging. Not because of the girls he worked with - all of whom were lovely, beautiful ladies, of course - but because he was going through just a little bit of a dry patch in his own love life. Something about spending a good portion of his days imitating having sex with someone made him very disinclined to spend his nights trying to find someone to do the actual act with. 

His friends had been persistent in their efforts to set him up, ignoring his pleas about how between work and auditions for speaking roles (ones with faces) he was just too tired. Most hadn’t even come to a first date, let alone any further. One hapless Californian native called Nate had made it as far as his bed, had given him a messy and unsatisfying handjob and then showed himself out. 

*

It was an effort to drag himself out of bed this particular morning. He’d had a fitful and broken sleep, not able to get comfortable when sleeping on his back was out of the question. His scene partner the day before hadn’t quite grasped the concept of not  _actually_ needing to make skin-on-skin contact with the spanking. And she’d had very sharp nails. 

He eventually pulled himself to his feet, skimming through the messages that had accumulated on his phone overnight, his spare hand digging through the nightstand for some moisturizer that might help ease the ache of his backside. Most of it could be dealt with later, his thumb only really pausing to open a message from Lara, his agent.

_Rise and shine! Big budget today, make sure you’re neat ;) I’d recommend a cold shower this morning, too x_

Blaine frowned down at his phone, rolling his eyes and tossing it onto the bed before shuffling off towards the bathroom. He’d long since learned to take every piece of Lara’s advice with a pinch of salt. 

It was only when he reached set that he realised perhaps he should have heeded Lara’s suggestion more carefully for once; even then only once he was in his robe, having been given a quick rub over by the makeup team, and walking barefoot over towards a wide love seat style couch. The director was already talking with his scene partner, their backs to Blaine as he crossed the room. But Blaine’s heart had already picked up a beat from the breadth of his scene partner’s shoulders, the light messy hair, the soft, deep tone of his voice. 

His friends had been teasing him about when this day would come, about when it would in fact be a man he was working with and suddenly he’d have to be focusing on a lot more than just whether his ass cheeks were clenched in the right way. 

And then the man turned and Blaine could practically hear Lara’s voice in his head, smugly pointing out that she’d told him so. It was his lips that Blaine’s eyes fell to first, turned up slightly at the corner, quirking even more so as the man registered where his gaze was. 

If there was one thing Blaine hated about being single, it was how much he missed kissing. Just spending hours mapping out the curve of someone’s lips, the taste of their tongue, the noises they might make when you bit here or sucked there. Blaine felt the blood in his body rush south and internally groaned. 

It was going to be a very long day.

The director, whom Blaine had met once before on a job about a month back, introduced them briefly, promising them he’d be back to set them up in a few minutes before rushing off.   
“It’s nice to meet you, Sebastian,” Blaine offered up politely, raising his hand to shake the other’s before deciding that was ridiculous when they were about to be naked and pressed up against one another, and letting it flop back to his side with a vague flick of his wrist. 

Sebastian caught the gesture, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “You’re a bit too cute to only have your body getting caught on camera,” Sebastian said in lieu of any kind of cordial response, as he sat down on the love seat, his legs slightly spread. The material of the robe draped over his thighs, revealing the smooth skin along the inside of them. 

Blaine wondered for a moment how Sebastian would feel about someone biting them. 

“You look a little too like a movie star to be doing the same,” Blaine retorted, blushing as Sebastian’s eyebrow rose, clearly not expecting him to be so quick to rise to his light flirting. 

It was true though, Sebastian did look like a movie star. His hair was artfully pushed back, his teeth straight and pearly white, and Blaine could see that he was toned just from where his robe was gaping over his chest unabashedly. 

Talking with him seemed to be helping Blaine a little, too, in other areas. If they could just keep talking like this, he would have less time to trace every single curve and contour of Sebastian’s body with his eyes, and then maybe he’d get through this. Maybe.

That maybe flew right out of his head once Sebastian’s robe came off. Sebastian had the kind of body that Blaine’s fantasy lovers of his high school years were made of. The kind that he’d dreamt about late at night, telling him he was beautiful, telling him he was perfect, telling him how much they wanted him, while his hand flew over his cock in erratic strokes. 

The planes of his chest were toned and defined, without being intimidatingly muscular. And his  _legs._ Even more mesmerising than they had been when just lightly covered by his robe, light hairs dusted over the skin. Blaine had no shame in admitting that he had a bit of a thing for a good pair of thighs, when he could tell just from looking at them that they’d wrap around his hips at just the right angle. 

As for his cock, well - it seemed Sebastian was of the sort to object to The Sock, and Blaine didn’t blame him for that. The Sock (not its official title, but what it was most commonly referred to by all who had the displeasure to encounter it) was really just a slip of material to cover an actor’s cock for the scene, if it was deemed necessary or possible. Necessary meaning if one or both of actors would be uncomfortable without it; possible meaning if it wouldn’t disrupt a shot. 

The former was laughable given that it was made of the most scratchy, irritating material, designed with the sole purpose that it would not accidentally fall off with any movement. Blaine had long since gotten over his preoccupations about having his bare cock resting against a stranger’s leg for an afternoon, particularly once he’d discovered just how much chafing could occur in the space of that time. A few girls would be more adamant about it and then, of course, he’d oblige. But as many of them complained that it felt like sandpaper on their own skin.

Blaine was almost tempted to ask for The Sock, just so he didn’t have to face the looming reality of bumping cocks with this Adonis at least once in the day. Almost. He did have such a gorgeous cock, he didn’t want to be the one responsible for his scene partner ending up with chafing and irritation.

He took a deep breath, settling the bubbling nerves in his stomach before slipping off his own robe, passing it over to one of the assistants. Sebastian was already being moved to lay down on the love-seat, one leg propped up invitingly, that seemingly ever-present smirk still tugging at his features.

“Just on top, please, Blaine,” the director probed, and he nodded as he walked over, swinging his body up over Sebastian’s.  
Sebastian’s hand fell voluntarily to the middle of his back, keeping him balanced as Blaine carefully settled his body down, being sure to minimise the amount of accidental rubbing of body parts as possible.

“Good?” Sebastian asked quietly, just for his ears as the production team milled around setting things up.  
Blaine nodded, finding a secure and comfortable way to hold his weight. Sebastian’s hand didn’t stray from his back, but his once-propped up leg came around the back of his knees to hold him in place, too.

Blaine gritted his teeth, slowly settling his hips down, breathing sharply through his nose. He looked up at Sebastian as he slotted their hips together, cocks resting chastely side by side. “Good?” he echoed.  
Sebastian grinned widely, before giving a small shrug. “Acceptable,” he murmured. 

While Sebastian was cocky, daring, even, he was still a professional. The director called action over the scene and he kept his hips moving in a strictly regulated way as the two of them rocked together. Fake frotting was an art in itself, but it was one that both Blaine and Sebastian had learned over time.

The director called cut, turning to his assistant to discuss something quietly.   
“Sebastian? Can you just move your hands to Blaine’s ass?”  
Sebastian hands were warm, at least, but fingers far too probing as they settled over the curve of his cheeks.

Blaine hissed, giving Sebastian’s bicep a pinch. “Watch it,” he grumbled, the skin still sensitive from the day before.   
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, letting out a low whistle. “But it’s so pert and round,” he protested, squeezing liberally. 

The shorter man gritted his teeth together, glaring at Sebastian until he loosened his grip a little. “Sore,” Blaine mumbled.  
“Well, well, Anderson. Was someone getting their ass pounded last night?” Sebastian asked, far too gleeful about the prospect.   
“More like I spent the night with ice on my ass to recover from Rachel Berry.”

Sebastian snorted, before letting his hands just drape over the curve of his ass, far gentler than before. “That girl is vicious. She bit me so hard I had a mark for a week.”  
Blaine smiled wryly; that sounded like Rachel. 

The director called out to set up again, and Blaine let his head fall to Sebastian’s shoulder, turned to face the back of the love seat. Not out of intimacy, but out of a certainty that if he kept looking into Sebastian’s hypnotic eyes, he was going to have to worry about controlling his emotions, as much as his body. 

With the grip Sebastian had on his ass, it was easier for him to roll his hips up in a rhythmic motion, little more for Blaine to do than match to it and try and make sure that he didn’t shift sideways at all. But no matter if Blaine squeezed his eyes tightly shut, or pictured himself in an ice bath or any other of the many scenarios Lara had offered up, none of it helped.

Because it felt good. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to anyone he was attracted to, and it felt good to have that skin on skin contact, the sound of Sebastian’s soft pants in his ear. 

And then Sebastian’s thumb starting rubbing gently over the curve of Blaine’s ass and Blaine had to stifle a moan, sinking his teeth down hard into his lower lip to stop the noise from escaping. His stomach tightened, blood rushing into his cock. 

For all Sebastian’s earlier attitude, Blaine was the one that felt guilty now. He’d broken that professional trust, he’d let himself forget where he was. Of course it was a risk of the job, and this kind of thing happened daily, he knew that. But it didn’t happen to him, he’d worked so hard to make sure it didn’t. 

“So, you are gay,” was all Sebastian whispered, when the director next called cut, slamming Blaine’s mouth shut over any apologies he was about to start exuding.   
Blaine lifted his head, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just because I happen to get a little bit hard when you’re grinding on me, you instantly assume my sexuality?” he hissed.

Sebastian shrugged, that lazy grin falling onto his lips again. “Sweetheart, I’ve rubbed up against half a dozen straight guys before and as much as my pride hates to admit it, they’re about as turned on by me as they are by a carrot.”

Blaine huffed, setting his head back down and not saying a word. For the rest of the shoot, he waited for Sebastian to ask him out. The flirting, the touches that went beyond the call of duty, the look in his eye. So, why wouldn’t he  _say_  it?

The director called it a day by mid-afternoon, thanking them for their time and ushering them out with a paycheck in both of their hands. Sebastian gracefully made sure to walk in front of Blaine, at least as far as when they were given their robes back, sending him a wink over his shoulder on the way to his dressing room.

“Sebastian, wait,” Blaine blurted out, fiddling with the tie of his robe and hovering on one foot.   
Sebastian turned, his robe still hanging open at the front. The man really did have no shame.  
“Would you like to have dinner? Tonight? With me?”

The corners of Sebastian’s mouth turned up in a grin and he slowly picked up either side of the material and folded them across his body before replying. “About time, killer. I’ve been waiting for you to ask since this morning.”

*

If there was one thing Blaine quickly learned when he sat down in the corner of a quiet Italian restaurant with Sebastian that evening, it was that he looked just as good with his clothes on. He was also more charming with them on, where he was cocky with them off, and Blaine couldn’t help but try to pick apart the persona of the actor that Sebastian was during the days, and the real man he was beneath it all.

It was natural to want to hide, to be someone different, not just in that kind of work, but in this town as a whole. Blaine was typically quieter at work than he was otherwise, as if he was scared he would give away too much of himself, say something he could come to regret. When one’s body is exposed, there are some things that one wants to remain hidden. 

Sebastian insisted on paying for dinner, had his card slapped onto the table before Blaine had even gotten his own wallet out of his pocket. He also insisted on walking Blaine home, an arm tucked around his waist in a way that he found protective rather than unnecessarily possessive. 

They lingered at the doorway to his apartment, Sebastian’s hands jammed into the pocket of his jeans, while Blaine’s were wrapped loosely around his own midriff. Blaine wanted to kiss him still, in fact even more so than the first time he’d thought it earlier that day. 

Sebastian caught Blaine’s gaze on his lips and seemed to take the hint, stepping forward to cup his cheek in one hand. “Way too cute,” he whispered, a smile on his lips as he pressed them to Blaine’s, warm and firm. It made something twist up in Blaine’s chest, his heart hammering as his hands came up to hold onto the lapels of Sebastian’s coat. 

They were both a little breathless when they broke apart, little clouds of condensation forming between their lips in the cool air.  
“Is this the part where you invite me inside for a drink?” Sebastian murmured, licking his own lips, as if chasing the taste of the other man on them. 

Blaine smiled to himself, before rocking back onto his heels. “Not tonight,” he replied softly, pressing a chaste kiss to Sebastian’s cheek before turning to the door, digging his hand into his pocket to find his keys.  
“I’ve already seen it all before,” Sebastian protested with a groan, pressing into his side, trying furtively to land kisses over his temple, his head. 

Blaine couldn’t help but laugh at his persistence, could feel in his touches that it was nothing but playful. Sebastian was pushy, maybe, but he wasn’t violent in his nature. Blaine could feel that in how safe he felt with him, just in the space of the day they’d known one another. 

“Goodnight, Sebastian,” he grinned, blowing him a kiss as he unlocked the front door to his apartment building and slipped inside. He took the stairs idly, unlocking the door on autopilot, his mind not in his actions at all.

He shrugged off his jacket when he got inside, moving over to the window to close the curtains for the sun had long since set. He snorted as he saw Sebastian still standing down on the street, hopping from foot to foot to try and keep warm, his gaze scanning over the windows, searching for him.

Blaine tugged the window open, enough to be able to stick his head and shoulders out.   
“Will you call me?” Sebastian asked, looking almost nervous with his hands stuck in his pockets.   
Blaine thought of how Sebastian had teased him earlier, with the robe, in waiting for him to be the one to make the first move. 

Of course he would call him. “We’ll see,” Blaine replied down to the street level. “Goodnight, Sebastian,” he repeated, retreating back into the warmth of his apartment.  
He heard a sigh filter its way up from the sidewalk, and footsteps slowly starting to move away. “You’re breaking my heart, Blaine Anderson.”


End file.
